Orthomyxoviridae in Space
by sisirongana
Summary: FShep/Miranda, in which Shepard's kind of a big baby. Oneshot.


_One-shot, unbetaed. Thought I'd try my hand at Mass Effect after finally getting a chance to play it and after significant writer's block with my Dragon Age story. Let me know what you think, and thanks for reading._

"How is it that we have the technology to make medi-gel but we can't cure _the common cold_?" came the stuffy voice underneath a pile of blankets. Only a mop of dark blonde hair and bleary gray eyes peeked out at Yeoman Kelly Chambers as she fluttered about the cabin.

The redheaded assistant stifled a laugh, but she could not hide the amusement in her voice. "I'm sure if you can defeat hordes of mercs and Collectors, you can best a little bout of the flu, Commander."

Commander Darby Shepard looked at her dubiously. With narrowed eyes, she watched Kelly shuffling through things on her desk with a mug of tea. "What do you mean?" she asked suspiciously.

Kelly smiled to take the sting out of her teasing words. "Don't you think you're being a little…petulant, Commander?"

"No," pouted the savior of the Citadel and defeater of the Collectors, quite petulantly.

Laughing, Kelly shook her head and brought the steaming mug over to the Commander's nightstand, setting it down gently and placing with it, a handful of books from Darby's desk. "Drink this, and here's some reading material while you stay in bed like Dr. Chakwas said. Maybe next time you'll heed her advice before nearly passing out at the CIC."

"I did not nearly pass out," groused Shepard, brushing mussed hair out of her eyes as she sat up with a muted groan and a sniffle. Realizing the books came from her collection, Shepard added, "Oh, and those…ah…alien magazines…they aren't mine. I'm holding them for a friend."

"Yes, Commander. I'm sure," said Kelly as she fed the fish.

The door to Shepard's cabin whizzed open as Miranda Lawson stepped inside. "Yeoman Chambers," she said, upon noticing her presence. "I can take it from here."

"Yes, Operative Lawson," Kelly responded. Conspiratorially, she said, "She's a little grouchy," before exiting with a shrug.

"I am not!" groused Shepard, poking her head out again from underneath the blankets. Settling her gaze on Miranda, however, calmed her. "You're a sight for sore eyes," Darby said, the flirtatious tone lost between the sniffles and the stuffy voice. "And what a sight indeed."

Lips quirking in an amused smile, Miranda perched herself on the side of Shepard's bed, putting a cool hand to the other woman's heated forehead. "None of that, Commander," she chastised with a smirk. "I've spoken with Dr. Chakwas. A few days' rest is what you need. I thought I'd just come up and see how you were doing." The sweetness of the gesture was not lost on Shepard, who smiled. "Although," Miranda continued, "Yeoman Chambers appears to have beaten me to it."

Darby laughed, then coughed hard enough to sound like she hacked out a lung. "You're kinda hot when you're jealous," her gravelly voice said, her tone an invitation. "So why don't you come over here and warm me up?" Shepard asked, holding the pile of blankets up for Miranda to crawl underneath.

Miranda smirked, raising a dark eyebrow. "You and I both know that your fever means you need to cool off." At Shepard's pout, something only she was privy to seeing, she added pointedly, "And perhaps other parts of you need to cool off as well."

Shepard frowned. "I hate being sick," she declared with a 'hmph.'

"I don't think anyone likes it," responded Miranda helpfully, tucking the blankets around the other woman snugly. "Are you hungry?"

Kelly had already brought up some soup early, which Shepard fussed with and hardly ate, but she shook her head. "Not for food," she grinned, her nose red from being rubbed with tissue.

Rolling her eyes, Miranda huffed. "Darby," she said sternly, despite being a little charmed. "You need to rest."

"I am resting. I'm on a bed. That constitutes rest," protested the blonde.

"Not if you're exerting yourself," replied Miranda, crossing her arms. "And if I know you – which I do, almost far too well – you'll be wanting to exert yourself all night long."

"Shouldn't you be flattered that I'm simply saying that you have a healing touch?" asked Shepard, scowling and clutching a pillow closer.

"_This_ is about all the touching you're going to get, love," smiled Miranda, pressing a cool kiss to Darby's forehead. She moved to pull away before she heard a scoff and felt strong arms wrap around her, pulling her down onto the bed with a grunt.

"Don't think so," insisted Shepard, releasing Miranda from the bear hug when the other woman propped herself above her, resting on her elbows.

"Ass," said Miranda fondly as Shepard pressed small kisses to her throat.

"That's what I've been trying to get," Darby said innocently, shifting so that she managed to get Miranda under the blankets as well while maintaining their same position.

Miranda laughed. "No, that's what I'm going to be kicking – yours specifically – if I get sick," she warned with blue eyes dimmed with the haze of desire.

"Promise." Shepard lifted her head at the same time that Miranda leaned down, the kiss sending chills down her spine unrelated to the flu, sealing the deal.

A few days later, as Miranda lay bedridden with the flu, Shepard had to apologize three times before the Cerberus agent stopped throwing books at her every time she entered the office. After all, a promise was a promise.


End file.
